


DLS

by writerspassion18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Mark, Hiding, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Lust, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Sneaking, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerspassion18/pseuds/writerspassion18
Summary: Hermione rarely slept these days. She was often in places that she shouldn't. With a certain Slytherin that she shouldn't.





	DLS

_Morning_

“Hermione, _please_?”

“Absolutely not,”

“Oh, come on,” Ron begged. “It’s just the introduction!”

“You say that, but we both know that’s not the case.” Hermione chided. “I’ll end up writing the whole thing for you and I’m not doing it.”

“ _Please_?? Harry,” he addressed his best friend. “Help me out here.”

Hermione’s brows nearly shot off her head. “You want _him_ to help you?”

Ron snickered. “I think you just insulted him. And no, I wanted him to help me persuade you.” Then he frowned as he side-glanced at his green-eyed companion. “But I think he’s distracted.”

Hermione was about to ask with what, but she saw the source of his distraction as it came down the hall. Well, as _he_ came down the hall. Harry was positively obsessed with Draco Malfoy as of late. Since last summer to be precise. Ever convinced that the blond was a Deatheater in the stead of his now-imprisoned father, not to mention the one behind the attack on Katie Bell, Harry was determined to prove it.

“Harry,” Hermione said gently. “I’ve already told you that you’re wasting your time with this.”

“I’m not wrong, Hermione.” Harry replied stubbornly. “You’ll see.”

Hermione bit her lip and hugged the book in her right arm tightly. Her small group was nearing closer to Draco’s -him with Pansy Parkinson on his arm, and his two bodyguards.

“Eat something sour there, Potter?” Draco drawled as they passed. Harry didn’t reply, but he sure did scowl hard enough. Draco smirked, letting his eyes pass over Ron who looked ready to pummel him. And then his smokey greys settled on Hermione. He purposefully knocked into her shoulder, and although his horde laughed, and Harry and Ron shouted at him to watch where he was going, Hermione wasn’t perturbed.

Only she would know that she had been looking forward to that action from the moment she spotted him down the hall. And only she could read how much he had been looking forward to it too. Draco’s hand had expertly found hers for the briefest of moments, his finger stroking her palm before letting it go.

As he continued walking he didn’t look back. Hermione didn’t either. But their encounter would haunt them for the rest of the day.

* * *

_Afternoon_

“You’re not mincing it properly.” Hermione said angrily. Draco rolled his eyes as he continued with his methods despite her scolding.

“It’s fine.” Draco grumbled. “Just because I don’t angle my elbow to the whatever-the-hell degree doesn’t mean the potion is going to blow up in our faces.”

Hermione let her head fall back and groaned in frustration. “That’s _exactly_ what it means, Malfoy!”

“The knife is angled fine.”

“Your elbow is not. _Fix_ _it_.”

“Oh, I’ll fix something alright, and it’s not my elbow.”

Hermione was fuming. However, she managed a bit of triumph when the root Draco was cutting slipped from between his fingers, onto his lap, and rolled onto the floor. He immediately turned to his potions partner and raised a finger.

“Not a word, Granger.”

“Quiet as the dead,” she grinned cheekily. Draco huffed as he pushed back his seat so that he could bend under the desk to pick up the root. It was firmly in his left hand. His right, however, as he got up from the floor, had latched onto her knee. And as he rose, so did his hand, under her skirt, up her thigh, and briefly making contact between her thighs before he settled neatly onto his seat.

Hermione snapped her eyes to his quickly and swallowed. His glance at her from his periphery sent chills down her spine.

“Try not to send anything else to the floor.” Hermione told him.

Draco resumed his cutting.

“No promises.”

* * *

_Night_

Hermione rarely slept these days. With well-placed Glamour Charms and potions to keep her looking like she was getting rest and being a good school girl, she was often in places that she shouldn’t. With a certain Slytherin that she shouldn’t.

Hermione sat on the enormous desk at the front of the class, biting her nails. Everything in her told her to go, but there were other parts of her that told her to stay. She had gone in on four of her nails before hearing the door to the classroom open.

Draco stood near the doorway, staring at her so far away from him, and then tilted his head. “A bright witch and yet still so out in the open whenever we meet.” He slowly made his way down between two aisles of desks while unbuttoning the top of his robes. “I could’ve been someone else.”

“I knew it was you.” Hermione said simply, her mind thinking of the Marauder’s Map she had stuffed in her robes’ pocket. Draco scoffed.

“You could choke a man with your Know-It-All-ness.”

“And you could kill a woman with your teasing.” Hermione replied as she settled her hands on the desk she sat on. “How about we call it even?”

Draco smiled. “Fair enough,”

Draco, so Hermione had learned over these past few months, was a very direct person. They spoke very little -not that she wanted otherwise. She would much rather revel in the feel of his hand sliding up her shirt to cup, caress, and play with her breasts as his other wrapped around her back to keep her steady. She would much rather get lost in his lips and then count how many blemishes she would have to cover as he bit, kissed, and licked her neck and across her chest. There were few better feels than himself pressed between her legs, and it was more of the teasing that she had grown sick of after today’s events.

“Take them off.” Hermione said against his mouth. She moaned in protest when Draco bit her bottom lip.

“Take them off for me.”

Hermione wasted no time. She slid herself off the desk and made the quickest work of his pants which frustrated her to no end. She could come in her nightwear but _he_ had to get dressed. She got her answer, however, one that she had known but needed reminding every so often.

Draco nibbled on her ear and whispered, “I love it when you undress me.”

Weak. She was weak. His pants and underwear were on the floor now, and he took off his shoes with his heels and stepped out of the offending clothing, kicking them aside. She unbuttoned his shirt and roughly pulled it off of him. Draco grabbed her by the back of the neck, his tongue good making work of her mouth as he simultaneously used his free hand to let her pajama pants and underwear hit the ground.

Hermione groaned without restraint as his hand resumed its position from potions class earlier that day. He had an expertise there, she had to admit, but it wasn’t enough for him despite the fact that she was coming undone.

“You’re a Gryffindor, Granger.” He said against her skin. “I need to get a roar out of you, not a groan.”

Hermione was angry when he gave her a push. She collided with the desk behind her, but before she could verbalize her protest her arm nearly pulled out of socket with how hard Draco removed her shirt from off of her. And then that roar, that scream really, that he was looking for appeared. He had entered her so quickly, so forcefully, that she couldn’t help it. And the sound was repeated with every thrust he gave. Hermione was at Draco’s mercy and she knew that he loved it. The snake charmer rendering the talkative witch into nothing but senseless words and sounds that could wake the dead.

It was better this way. If this was all they did, he couldn’t discuss his endeavors, nor could she discuss hers. The only evidence that they were on opposite sides at all was the Dark Mark on his arm -confirmation of which Hermione had gained three months prior, but had said nothing about. If anyone ever found out that she knew, the consequences would be horrific. The key to getting the edge on the pending war was currently between her legs, but instead of using him for a greater purpose, she was using him for her own. A delectably sensual purpose that Hermione was addicted to, Draco too, although he would never admit it.

They were each other’s dirty little secret.

* * *

 **Author's note:** No intentions of making this more than a one-shot, but who knows what my imagination will do? Also, I wanted to say that this was partly inspired by a piece of Dramione artwork that I saw on Facebook once, but I have NO IDEA how to find it. Maybe you know? If I remember correctly, it's of Draco and Hermione walking down the hall and they hold hands briefly. If you know it, please tell me so I can acknowledge the author!

-WP


End file.
